


Death of the Sun

by KTheKryptid



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Wholesome, au where the world actually ends, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-18 16:45:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19338517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KTheKryptid/pseuds/KTheKryptid
Summary: All he knew was that having the angel in his arms was the only thing that mattered at that exact moment. Who knew when the world would end? Who knew when the armies of heaven and hell would come together, destroying everything in their path: humans, buildings, animals. Everything. He knew that when the armies came, when they saw him and Aziraphale lying together, they would be killed without mercy. It didn’t matter which army found them. They would be dead no matter what. All that mattered at that moment was that they were with each other.Listen guys, I just wanted Aziraphale and Crowley to hold each other as the world ended. Is that too much to ask?





	Death of the Sun

_ How did it come to this?  _ He thought to himself. The world was ending, and their plan to save it didn’t work. At all. In fact it failed so miserably that the world was ending  _ sooner _ than planned. He sighed, running his fingers through his hair, frustrated. It was going so well. In hindsight,  _ too _ well. They had watched the boy grow up, teaching him their own philosophies: hurting creatures and saving them, respectfully. They had made sure he chose what side he wanted to join. The more he grew, the more they realized he wouldn’t pick a side. He would grow up normal. Neutral. Equally bad and good. A spoiled brat, yes, but a good heart.  _ Kind of _ . He was a teenager. There was only so much  _ good _ that heart could hold. Teenagers were terrifying. He shivered just thinking about them. The kid was normal, he really was. That was the issue. The kid was  _ too _ normal. He never once exhibited signs of being the Antichrist. That should have tipped Crowley off immediately, but how was he supposed to know when the Antichrist was supposed to start showing his powers? It’s not like this had exactly  _ happened _ before. It’s not like there was a  _ book _ .

Crowley paused. Then he cursed. There was a book. A book that was a few thousand years old. A book that would burn him if he touched it. Why hadn’t he just asked Aziraphale? He knew exactly why he didn’t ask him; he didn’t want to stress Aziraphale out more than necessary. Crowley sighed again. What he wouldn’t do far that angel.

“What are you thinking about, Crowley?” Speak of the devil. Or should he say “angel” this time?

Crowley shook his head, turning in the sofa to look Aziraphale in the eyes.  _ How did it come to this? _ Crowley thought to himself once again. One second, he had been on the phone with Aziraphale, telling him that the real Antichrist had joined with the Four Horsemen. And then the next, he found himself transported into the bookshop, surrounded by the smell of old books and a roaring fire. He looked around, looking for something.

“Crowley? Crowley, are you still there?” He could hear Aziraphale in the back of the shop. “I swear to Her that if you hung up on me…”

Crowley ran to the back, pulling Aziraphale from the phone, causing him to crash into his chest. They looked into each other’s eyes for a brief moment, tense in the other’s arms, before relaxing and stepping away from each other. Aziraphale made a show of brushing himself off and huffing as if it was a great nuisance that Crowley had come into the shop unannounced. The demon in question placed his hand on his hips, looking into the corner, making a face as if he were also greatly inconvenienced.

Aziraphale gestured towards Crowley. “Well? What were you saying on the phone? About the Antichrist meeting the Horsemen? What is our plan?”

Crowley hung his head. “That’s just it, Angel. There is no plan. Don’t you see?” He gestured outside, to the giant ring of fire that could just barely be made out from the window. “There’s nothing we can do now. It’s over. The end is near.”

“So,” Aziraphale started, staring at the angel--no, the  _ demon _ \--in front of him. “What do we do now? I can’t join the angel army! I lost the flaming sword they gave me, Crowley. They’ll  _ never _ let me join them. At least not without punishing me first!” 

Crowley watched Aziraphale continue to ramble, the cogs in his on mind turning. 

“And what if they  _ know _ we worked together, Crowley? Then what?” 

He snapped out of his own thoughts. “They don’t know. They don’t know we’re together.”

Aziraphale shuffled uncomfortably. “Well, not  _ together _ together.”

Crowley attempted to hide his hurt, but failed. “Right. No. I meant..well, you know what I meant.” He ran a hand through his hair again before whispering, “They don’t know we work together. If they did, they would have already confronted us about it.”

The angel looked at him, shocked. “Didn’t two of your demon friends try to kill you? And you had to trap one of them in your answering machine? How is that  _ not _ confrontation?”

“Well,” Crowley started. “They’re not  _ really _ my friends.”

Aziraphale chuckled nervously, looking away.  _ What now? _

What now, indeed. That had been a few hours ago. Somehow, from then to now, they had made their way to the sofa, laying down on it, held peacefully in each other’s arms. What had changed from Aziraphale’s previous statement of “not together” and this, Crowley didn’t know. All he knew was that having the angel in his arms was the only thing that mattered at that exact moment. Who knew when the world would end? Who knew when the armies of heaven and hell would come together, destroying everything in their path: humans, buildings, animals. Everything. He knew that when the armies came, when they saw him and Aziraphale lying together, they would be killed without mercy. It didn’t matter which army found them. They would be dead no matter what. All that mattered at that moment was that they were with each other.

Aziraphale watched Crowley’s mind consume him. He reached out and brushed strands of red hair out of his companion’s face, causing their eyes to meet. “You can’t tell me you’re not thinking of anything. I can see it.”

Crowley sighed. He had been doing that a lot, Aziraphale noted. Something was weighing heavily on his mind. “The world is going to end, and one of our armies will win.” Aziraphale nodded, wanting Crowley to continue. “Go, Aziraphale. Go join the army of the angels.”

Aziraphale was almost taken aback. No, he  _ was  _ taken aback. Almost insulted. “You want me...to leave?” When Crowley nodded, Aziraphale continued, pushing himself away from Crowley, standing up. “Why? Why do you want me to leave when every time before this you’ve been asking me to stay?”

Crowley sat up himself. “What would you rather have, Angel? Eternity with the angels? Or a death with me?”

Aziraphale stared at Crowley. So that was it. That was what he was so worried about. He moved closer to the sofa, putting his hands on Crowley’s cheeks. “I'd rather spend eternity running from both armies with you, Crowley. Nothing else matters.”

Crowley wrapped his arms around the angel, pulling him back down to the sofa. As Aziraphale struggled, Crowley wrapped his wings around him, making sure he wouldn’t fall. Aziraphale opened his mouth but Crowley shushed him, pulling them closer to each other. “Shh. Let’s just enjoy the peace that comes with the end of the world, Angel.”

And they did. Wrapped in each other’s arms and wings, holding each other as the nuclear warheads landed. Holding each other as the armies of heaven and hell descended upon a scorched world. Holding each other as their eyes finally closed in the burning of the world. 

  
  



End file.
